Ascension
by R.Ryan
Summary: A scarred prince shunned by those he fought for. A broken woman crippled by her past. A love story that lives to this day. Come. Walk back through the veil to times past and learn of the love between the Macedonian prince and his love...his Isabella.
1. Prologue

Men are haunted by the vastness of eternity. And so we ask ourselves: will our actions echo across the centuries? Will strangers hear our names long after we are gone and wonder who we were, how bravely we fought, how fiercely we loved?

Odysseus  
>Troy, 2004.<em><br>Directed by Wolfgang Petersen  
>[Film] United Kingdom<br>Distributed by Warner Bros. Pictures_


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Ascension.  
>Chapter One.<p>

The drunken revelry of the victorious men drowned out the pained cry of the fatally wounded. The once cream-coloured sand was now red, soaked with the blood of dead and wounded. The air carried with it the scent of sweat, blood and death. Lit pyres brought an eerie warm to the camp site.

Soldiers cried out at the sight of him, chanting his name in reverence as he passed them, his head lowered, his body aching with every step he took. Some stepped into his path, pleading with him to join them for a celebratory drink or threw a woman at him for his bed. He refused them all and instead retreated to the only place he could feel a semblance of normalcy.

"Another battle won," Jasper spat bitterly at the entrance of his tent, throwing down his weapons in disgust, flecks of blood and skin splatting the floor.

"Your strategy worked though. Very few pyres will be built this night," his most trusted friend, Edward, muttered, mirroring his actions by removing his own sword and handing it to one of his servants before reaching forward to remove the cape that hung from Jasper's armor.

"Yet still … I have to question. What do we win with war?" Jasper mused, dropping his helmet to the floor as Edward became to help him remove his breast plate.

"Land, wealth." Edward listed as he meticulously helped Jasper remove the many layers of his armor.

"But at such cost? Winning battles come with the price of blood. The blood of the young and strong. It's won with the tears of mothers and wives that mourn the loss of their sons and husbands," Jasper spat, his body sagging in relief as the weight of his armor was finally lifted.

"That is why we wish for you to take the crown, Jasper," Edward whispered, as his servant began to help him remove his armor and Jasper washed his hands in a small basin close by. "We trust only you with the future of our people."

"Must we go over this again," Jasper groaned, looking back at his friend whose eyes mirrored the exhaustion that came with a well fought battle. "My father, your great emperor, will never give me that crown, Edward."

"Only because you won't find a wife," Edward scoffed, throwing water on his face. "It is his only condition."

"But how can I damn a woman to a life with me; as my wife and the mother of my children with this?" Jasper reasoned softly, gesturing to the half of his face that he hid from the world.

"Will you ever tell me how you got those scars, friend?" Edward said, his green eyes softening at the sight of his friend's pain.

"Maybe someday, but until then, it is my cross to bear alone," Jasper smiled sadly before gesturing for Edward to enter Jasper's tent. "Come. Share a meal with me."

"A meal sounds very good right now," Edward smiled, dismissing his guards before entering the tent.

Silently, both men took a seat at the only table in the tent, carelessly throwing the many papers that covered it, onto the floor.

"Wine?" Jasper offered, passing a _dolia _over to Edward after filling a cup for himself.

It was at that moment, the curtains to his tents were parted by the guards to reveal the tiny frame of the only servant Jasper had.

After he had been scarred, the servants he had were too disgusted or terrified by him to serve him. On one night when he had simply had enough with the whispers and the pointed gestures, he had destroyed his room in a fit of anger. That night would be the night he became the monster that many truly believed him to be.

He truly did regret his actions that night but it fulfilled its purpose. He was left alone. That was, until, she came into his life.

She had appeared like a flower carried on the gentlest of winds. Her soft spoken words. Her gentle movements. Her strong convictions. Her infuriating stubbornness. She brought him an undeniable peace, despite the fact that he had never seen her face.

"Master," her soft voice broke through his thoughts, bringing a smile to his face. "I have your dinner for you, and for you as well, Master Edward."

"Thank you, Isabella," Jasper said, gesturing for her to enter with the food.

With a nod of her head, she brought in the tray of food and immediately began to serve both men.

"Master Edward," Isabella murmured softly as she placed his plate in front of him. "I was asked to tell you that your wife is being brought to you. She was ordered to accompany Master Emmett and his wife."

"Bastard!" Edward roared, slamming his fist into the table causing Isabella to jump back in fright. "She is with child. Does he not care for her safety? For my child?"

"Be calm, Edward," Jasper soothed, gently pulling her over to his side of the table. "Alice is one of the strongest women I know. She will be fine and she will bear you a fine son."

"I just worry," Edward said mournfully, taking a bite of food. "I have seen the struggles to keep the child alive in the womb. I just-"

"Alice is not Rosalie," Jasper softly interrupted.

"If I may, Master Edward. It is your right as a father and husband to worry about the safety of those who possess your heart, but this worry will rob you of the happiness that comes with your wife bearing you a child," Isabella interjected from where she stood behind Jasper, waiting to be of assistance to him.

"Words well said, Isabella," Jasper chuckled. "Now, shall we finish this meal and get some rest? We both have wounds that need to be tended to."

Both men continued to eat, sharing their accounts of the battle, remembering the fallen with a soft toast and parted with a shared laugh when Lord Edward was informed of his wife's arrival.

"We shall meet in the morning, my brother," Edward smiled, clasping his arms with Jasper's before leaving the tent with his own guards trailing behind.

"Isabella," Jasper called to her quietly, "I am in need of a bath. Can you have one brought?"

"It has already been done, Master," she said ever so softly, walking over to a curtained off part of his tent to reveal an iron tub already filled with water. "Do you wish for me to tend to your injuries now?"

"After my bath," Jasper responded as he began to remove the mask that hid the scars on his face from all the world.

"As you wish, Master," Isabella whispered, extending her hand from behind him to take the mask.

"Another battle won, Isabella. More land for my father. More wealth. More prestige," Jasper sighed bitterly. "How many dead from our ranks?"

"One hundred and eighty-three, Master," Isabella responded, turning her back as he stripped off the rest of his clothing and sank down into the warm water. "And, as always, I have already sent the messengers on their way, bearing letters of comfort with your seal and have sent them each a pouch of gold."

"If only I could have prevented that. The men my father has now filling his ranks are so young. They are but children," Jasper spat, his hands becoming fists.

"Death is an inevitable cost of war. On this night, we build pyres for our soldiers and in the years to come soldiers will fall by the blade or arrow. It is your duty as their prince to honor what they fought for, what they died for, and that was the peace and freedom of the empire that they love," Isabella said softly, as she began her task of washing him of the blood and grime that covered his body.

Sighing, Jasper dropped his head back onto the metal of the tub, looking up at Isabella who was currently washing the blood from his hands with a soft cloth.

"Why do you wear this mask, Isabella?" Jasper asked softly, tugging at the shawl that covered her entire face. Even her eyes were covered with a thin veil.

"Because I too, do not like the world to see my face," Isabella whispered, moving to wash his shoulder.

"Do you bear scars like I do?" Jasper asked softly.

"No, Master. I do not bear scars like those that mar your face, but I do bear my own scars," Isabella answered.

"Forgive me if I do not believe you, Isabella. Your heart is too pure for your body to not reflect that," Jasper muttered before falling silent and closing his eyes.

Isabella continued her task in silence, paying close attention to any wounds to see how deep they were. Thankfully, all she had to tend to were the scars on his face that looked raw after he wore the mask for an entire day.

When she was satisfied with her work, she ordered one of the male servants to help Jasper dress for bed while she prepared the salve for his face.

"He is already dosing off," the elderly servant chuckled fondly as he walked over to where she stood waiting. "He fought valiantly today. The story tellers and soldiers are already telling of his valor."

"Thank you for your help, Samuel. All the others shun him, yet they revel in the victory he brings about for them," Isabella whispered before walking over to the mountain of pillows and wools that comprised her master's bed.

Smiling softly to herself, she quietly knelt down next to the already slumbering man and began to gently rub the salve into the raw skin. Tears spilled from her eyes as she tended to her master, only to be caught in the veil that prevented the world from seeing her face.

She took pride in serving him, from preparing his meals herself to tending to his wounds. From the day she knew enough about her own mind, she ran away. Ran until she found him again. She saw how he was treated as if he was a lesser being because of the scars on his face. Because of that, she did whatever she could to ensure that she would be the one to serve him.

It was as if fate herself had smiled on her and within days, she found herself as the only one who would willingly serve him. Her service started off simply enough, readying him for the day and ensuring that he was settled at night, but then her duties grew. When she heard the servant girls in the kitchen making a mockery of him - some even planning to give him wasted food, she began to prepare his meals herself. When she discovered the scribe falsifying and blatantly lying on documents, she brought the matter to her master's attention and helped him find a scribe that was worthy of the position. She was responsible for the dismissal of two servants who chose to steal his possessions instead of tend to his rooms.

Her world revolved around him. She loved him truly and purely, but her shame kept her from revealing her affections.

"Forgive me, Master," Isabella whispered, her fingers gently lingering on his scars. "I damned you to this life. My stupidity. My vanity. My pride, brought this fate on you and I am sorry. I am so sorry, Master. Forgive me. Please, forgive me."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Ascension.  
>Chapter Two.<p>

"Master!"

The cry of pure terror, pulled Jasper from his sleep and had him running out of his tent, drawing his sword as he went only to be stopped when he saw that it was his own brother who had struck his Isabella to the floor.

"What is the meaning of this?" Jasper spat, spearing his sword into the sand and gently helping Isabella to her feet.

"So the servant is your whore!" his brother, Prince Emmett, smirked.

"Keep your tongue behind your teeth," Jasper roared, prompting Edward to join the building argument, having surfaced when he heard Jasper's servant's cry.

"Calm, brother," Edward whispered to his friend.

"Do not give yourself such a title, Edward," Emmett spat, turning to look at the bronze haired-man. "I am his brother."

"What are you doing here, Emmett?" Jasper growled, gently passing the trembling Isabella over to Edward's wife, who immediately began to fuss over her.

"I have come to see the lands that you won, brother. Maybe get a new whore or two," Emmett shrugged, walking past Jasper and going into Jasper's tent.

"You speak so crassly in the presence of your own wife," Jasper threw back, his words harsh but his eyes soft and comforting as he looked over at his brother's wife who stood, in the background, her head lowered in either shame or fear; he did not know.

"She's a whore too," Emmett chuckled darkly, grabbing up a smoked turkey leg lying on the table and quickly began to consume it.

"Prince Jasper, I need to tend to Isabella. She is bleeding," Edward's wife, Alice, said softly, breaking through Jasper's anger.

"What?" Jasper muttered, whirling around to look at Isabella where she sat on his bed, the head scarf she is wearing, taken on a red color as the blood began to seep into it.

"Please no!" Isabella pleaded, backing away from Alice as the younger woman reached for her scarf.

"Isabella!" Jasper shouted. "You are bleeding. Let Alice look at your head."

"No, Master! Please, Master, no!" Isabella shook her head, her fear very evident.

"Isabella, come here!" Jasper ordered, walking over and pulling the woman into his lap as he sat down, forcibly restraining her as she continued to struggle in his arms.

Chuckling at him, Emmett stood with a smug smile on his face, quickly walking to the doorway of the tent, pulling Rosalie along with him. "We shouldn't be here for this, Rosie. Jasper's going to train his bitch just like I trained you."

Edward and Alice took it upon themselves to close down the doorway as neither of them could understand why Isabella was reacting so badly to them wanting to tend to her wound.

"Isabella," Jasper tried again. "Why do you know want me to help you? Why can't we attend to your wounds?"

Surprisingly, Isabella began to cry, wrapping herself up in Jasper's arms prompting the stunned prince to pull her closer into him.

"I'm the reason," she sobbed out.

"The reason for what?" Jasper said gently, placing his chin on top of her head.

"Your scars," Isabella whispered in a broken voice, bracing herself for Jasper to push her of him but she surprised when Jasper easily lifted her up and shifted her so that she was straddling him instead.

"Isabella," Jasper said gently, "what are you saying?"

"My father was a good man. His kindness knew no bounds. When he was just a young man, a fire broke out in the temple of the goddess and he ran into the temple to save the priestesses even though the others in the village said that there was no hope for them. He risked his life for them. He managed to save all of them, but he face was burned. No one from the villages wanted their daughters tied to such a man but my father, like you, understood even though they treated him like a leper. The priestess bled for the pain they saw my father going through, but none more than my mother. One night, she turned to the goddesses and asked for their guidance and they appeared to her. They told her that they had chosen her to be his wife….that she was to go to him and pled her case and that they knew he would love her unconditionally maybe more than she loved him.

My mother did just that and as the goddesses said, my father married my mother within days of her going to him. I was the product of that love, but the goddess were not finished with my parents. On the night that I came into the world, the goddesses appeared to my mother and I was blessed with beauty that would surpass all others and as I grew older, my vanity grew as well.

The day you got those scars, you rode in on your horse, to see me, pinned beneath a man who was about to rape me because I had asked my father to turn down his wedding proposal. You stepped in and he attacked you, causing the injuries on your face. I ran away leaving you there. I thought you had died because of my stupidity and from that day, I have hidden my face.

When I heard about the scarred prince, something in my mind told me that I needed to see you and it was days before I joined your service that I saw you. I knew your eyes. I held your head in my lap as you bled. I remembered your eyes, clear blue and kind. You wiped my tears away and told me not to cry as you bled in my lap and when you closed your eyes, I thought you had died.

I hate myself for what happened to you. I hated myself even more when I heard that no one would wed you and that you would not force anyone to wed you," Isabella confessed, stunning Jasper, Edward and Alice into silence.

"Oh beautiful," Jasper muttered, pulling her into his chest. "You were so young. I never blamed you for any of it, sweet girl. I can't imagine the guilt you must have felt."

"It's my fault," she whispered again, her hands forming fist against his chest.

"No, sweet girl," he whispered only for her to hear. "I remember you too. I remember the fear in your eyes, the way you kept looking over at the man, wondering if he would get up to finish what he started. I never regretted what I did. Not then and not now. Now, let me see your face."

Slowly, Isabella lifted her head and with trembling hands, undid her head scarf.

Silence rang through the tent as Jasper, Alice and Edward looked at Isabella for the first time.

Her coffee-colored hair.

Her flawless cream skin.

Her pink lips.

Her sea-green colored eyes.

Only one word could sum up what they saw and it came for Jasper's lips as soft as a prayer. "Perfection"


End file.
